At this time Washington was not far behind other large cities in games of chance, and gambling was frequently indulged in quite openly. Edward Pendleton's resort, a luxurious establishment down town, was regarded as quite a la mode, and I have heard it said that he had able assistance from social ranks. I have often wondered why a man who indulged in this sport was called a gambler, as the term "gamester," used many years ago, seems decidedly more appropriate. I own two volumes of a very old book, published in the eighteenth century, entitled "The Gamesters," in which the heroes are professional gamblers. I have seen Mrs. Pendleton's costly equipage, drawn by horses with brilliant trappings and followed by blooded hounds, coursing the length of Pennsylvania Avenue, while its owner seemed entirely unconscious of the aching hearts which had contributed to all her grandeur. Cards were universally played in private homes and whist was the fashionable game, General Scott being one of its chief devotees. I have often thought how much the old General would have enjoyed "bridge," as there was nothing that gave him more pleasure than playing the "dummy hand."

My old friend, Mrs. Diana Bullitt Kearny, the widow of General "Phil" Kearny, in our many chats in her latter days, gave me many reminiscences of Washington at a time when I was not residing there. She described a fancy-dress ball given by her while residing in the old Porter house on H Street, which must have been about 1848, as General Kearny had just returned from the Mexican War. She dwelt particularly upon the costume of Emma Meredith, one of her guests and the daughter of Jonathan Meredith of Baltimore, who came to Washington to attend the party. She represented a rainbow and her appearance was so gorgeous that Mrs. Kearny said the Heavenly vision seemed almost within the grasp of common mortals. Miss Meredith's supremacy as a belle has never been eclipsed. I recall a painful incident connected with her life. A young naval officer was deeply in love with her and, it is said, was under the impression that she intended to marry him. At a theater party one evening he discovered his mistake and, taking the affair to heart, returned to his quarters and the same evening swallowed a dose of corrosive sublimate. Physicians were immediately summoned and, although he regretted the act and expressed a desire to live, they were unable to save him. It is said that about the same time Miss Meredith left her home in Baltimore to visit her sister, Mrs. Gardiner G. Howland, whose husband was one of the merchant princes of New York, and that, as she crossed the Jersey City Ferry, one of the first objects which met her eyes was the funeral cortege of her disappointed lover en route to his final resting place. Subsequent to this tragedy, I met Miss Meredith in Saratoga, surrounded by the usual admiring throng. She never married. I heard of her in recent years, at a summer resort near Baltimore, and, although advanced in years, I understood she still possessed exceptional powers of attraction. Only a short time ago I heard a young man remark that he knew her very well and that he would rather converse with her than with women many years her junior.

Mrs. Kearny was said to be the last of the "Lafayette girls." In 1825, when Lafayette made his memorable visit to the United States as the guest of the nation, she was living with her parents in Louisville, and at the tender age of five strewed flowers in the pathway of the distinguished Frenchman. She remembered the incident perfectly and in our numerous conversations I have repeatedly heard her allude to it. She told me that, seated at General Lafayette's side in the carriage which conveyed him through the city, was the great-uncle, Colonel Richard C. Anderson, who led the advance of the American troops at the Battle of Trenton. General Robert Anderson, U.S.A., whose memory the country honors as the defender of Fort Sumpter, was his son. The General's widow, a daughter of General Duncan L. Clinch, U.S.A., resided in Washington until her death a few years ago. She was a woman of rare intelligence and, although a great invalid for many years, gathered around her an appreciative circle of friends, who were always charmed by her attractive personality.

In my earliest recollection of Washington the old Van Ness house was still sheltered by many trees. The foliage was so dense that it may have been the desire of the occupants to shield themselves in this manner from public view. When I first knew the landmark it was occupied by Thomas Green, an old-time resident of the District. He married, as his second wife, Ann Corbin Lomax, a daughter of Major Mann Page Lomax of the Ordnance Department of the Army. During the Civil War, Mr. Green's sympathies were with the South, but he took no active part in the conflict. One of his idiosyncrasies was to pick up, on and around his spacious grounds, scraps of old iron, such as horse shoes, hay rakes and the like, which were placed in a corner of his capacious cellar. Suspicion was centered upon his house by information given to the government by an old family servant who thought he was doing the country a service, and directions were accordingly given that it should be searched. While this order was in process of execution, the discovery of the scrap-iron is said to have played an important part and in some unaccountable manner to have aroused further suspicion. Whatever the logic of the situation may have been is not intelligible, but the fact remains I that Mr. and Mrs. Green and the latter's sister, Miss Virginia Lomax, were arrested in a summary manner and taken to the Old Capital Prison, where for a time they were kept in close confinement, during which Miss Lomax suffered severe indisposition and, as is said, never entirely recovered from the effects of her incarceration. About twenty-five years after the War, while staying at the same house with her in Warrenton, Virginia, I quite longed to hear her reminiscences of prison life; but when I expressed my desire to a member of her family, I was requested not to broach the subject as, even at this late day, it was painful to her as a topic of conversation.

During the War of 1812, Major Lomax was sent upon a mission to Canada by the U.S. Government and, one day during his brief sojourn, dined in company with some British officers. During the dinner a toast was offered by one of the sons of John Bull: "To President Madison, dead or alive." The responding toast by Major Lomax was: "To the Prince Regent, drunk or sober." The British officer who had proposed the toast to Madison immediately sprang to his feet and with much indignation inquired: "Do you mean to insult me, sir?" The quick rejoinder was: "I am responding to an insult!"

I met Charles Sumner soon after his first appearance in the United States Senate as the successor of Daniel Webster, who had become Secretary of State. He was a man of striking appearance and bore himself with the dignity so characteristic of the statesmen of that period. "Sumner is one of them literary fellows," was the facetious criticism of the Hon. Zachariah Chandler of Michigan, who a few years later became one of his colleagues in the Senate, and who in earlier life was accumulating a large fortune while Mr. Sumner, in his Massachusetts home, was engaged in those intellectual and scholarly pursuits which eventually made him one of the ripest and most accomplished students in the land. Chandler, however, in his own way, furnished a conspicuous example to aspiring youths of the day, both by his earlier and subsequent life, of what may be accomplished by determined application.

For a decade or more preceding the Civil War the political sentiment of Washington, especially in reference to the violent anti-slavery agitation then engrossing the thought of the country, was decidedly in sympathy with the attitude of the South. It is not, therefore, surprising that Sumner, whose radical views were known from Maine to Texas, should have been received at first in Washington society with but little cordiality. As the years passed along, he was rapidly forging himself ahead to the leadership of his party in the Senate and, of course, became strongly inimical to Buchanan's administration. He was regarded with confidence and esteem by his own party, and, although naturally both disliked and feared by his political opponents, it could be truthfully said of him that he was

A man that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks,

and that no attempts to socially ostracize or to deride him for his political views and his intense application to his sense of duty deterred the great Massachusetts statesman from pursuing the "even tenor of his way."

An anecdote went the rounds of the Capital to the effect that, one morning when a gentleman called to see Sumner at his rooms on Pennsylvania Avenue, a colored attendant answered the door and after glancing at his card informed him that it would be impossible to disturb his master, as he was rehearsing before a looking-glass a speech which he expected to deliver the following morning. Whether this was originally told by a friend or foe of Mr. Sumner is not known. Mr. Sumner once requested me to take him to see a young Washington belle who combined Parisian grace with Kentucky dash. I refer to Miss Sally Strother, an acknowledged beauty of decidedly Southern views, who lived on Seventh Street near F Street, now a commercial center. Mr. Sumner and I walked to her house from my home on G Street and found several guests in her drawing-room, where the topic of conversation, in the course of the evening, drifted to the subject of spiritualism. It was announced that at a recent seance the spirit of Washington had appeared and uttered the usual platitudes, whereupon Miss Strother, without a moment's hesitation, remarked: "I wonder what General Washington would say about Mr. Sumner?" Someone undertook to define Washington's views, but Miss Strother interrupted and said: "I know just what he would say—that he was a very intelligent, a very handsome, but a very bad man." This remark was naturally productive of much mirth, but failed to arouse any manifestation of feeling or disapprobation on the part of Mr. Sumner. Later, as we were walking homeward he remarked: "I have l'esprit d'escalier and my retorts do not come until I am well-nigh down the flight of stairs." Sally Strother went abroad, where she married Baron Fahnenberg of Belgium, and shared a fate similar to that of many of her country-women, as she was finally separated from her husband. She cherished, however, a pride of title and bequeathed $60,000 to erect in Spa, Belgium, a handsome chapel as well as a vault to contain the remains of her mother, brother and herself. Her Kentucky relatives, however, including the family of Mrs. Basil Duke, succeeded in breaking the will on the ground that her mother's will, through which she had inherited her property, did not permit it to leave the family. The chapel and vault, accordingly, were not built, and all her property reverted to her relatives.

In addition to his commanding presence, nature bestowed upon Mr. Sumner a clear and melodious voice, which rendered it quite unnecessary for him to resort to Demosthenic methods of cultivation. For many years his inspiring words could be heard upon the floor of the Senate in all of the leading debates of the day, and his masterly orations will go down to posterity as an important contribution to the history of many national administrations.

I well remember Preston S. Brooks's cowardly assault upon Charles Sumner in the Senate Chamber in the spring of 1856. Public indignation ran very high, and his political opponents referred to him thereafter as "Bully Brooks." Socially, as well as politically, he was popular. He possessed a gentle and pleasing bearing and it would have been difficult for anyone to associate him with such a cruel outrage. His uncle, Andrew P. Butler, who was in the U.S. Senate from South Carolina at the same time, was a fine-looking and venerable gentleman, but he was one of the class then designated as "fire-eaters."

There existed between Mr. Sumner and Henry W. Longfellow a strong friendship which was contracted in early life. I have often heard the Massachusetts statesman recite some of his friend's poetical lines, which seemed to me additionally beautiful when rendered in his deep and sonorous voice. In the latter years of his life he resided in the house which is now the Arlington Hotel Annex, where he surrounded himself with his remarkable collection of books and articles of virtu which he exhibited with pride to his guests. I especially recall an old clock presented to him by Henry Sanford, Minister to Belgium, as an artistic work of exceptional beauty. Mr. Sumner, by the way, was an accomplished connoisseur in art. I have heard him strongly denounce Clark Mills's equestrian statue of General Andrew Jackson, now standing in the center of Lafayette Square. He told me that on one occasion he was conducting a party of Englishmen through the streets of the National Capital and, as they were driving along Pennsylvania Avenue, he seated himself in such a position as to entirely obstruct the view of what he called this "grotesque statue," calling the attention of his guests, meanwhile, to the White House on the other side of the street.

I felt honored in calling Charles Sumner my friend, and I take especial pleasure in repeating the encomium that "to the wisdom of the statesman and the learning of the scholar he joined the consecration of a patriot, the honor of a knight and the sincerity of a Christian." George Sumner, his brother, did not appear in the land of his birth as a celebrity, but he had a remarkable career abroad. He hobnobbed with royalty throughout the European continent and was highly regarded for his profound learning. He studied at the Universities of Heidelberg and Berlin and traveled extensively through Europe, Asia and Africa. He never tarried long in his "native heath," and furnished conspicuous evidence that "a prophet is not without honor save in his own country." Alexander von Humboldt praised the accuracy of his researches and Alexis de Tocqueville referred to him as being better acquainted with European politics than any European with whom he was acquainted.

While Sumner was in the Senate, George T. Davis of Greenfield, Massachusetts, was a member of the House of Representatives. I knew him very well and he was a constant visitor at our home. He was celebrated for his flashes of wit, which sometimes stimulated undeveloped powers in others, and I have often seen dull perceptions considerably sharpened at his approach. Oliver Wendell Holmes speaks of his witty sayings in the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," and his conversational powers were so brilliant that they won the admiration of Thackeray. Robert Rantoul, also from Massachusetts, and a colleague of Davis, was a "Webster Whig" and a powerful exponent of the "Free-Soil" faith. Davis, who was so bright and clever in the drawing-room, could not, however, compete with Rantoul on the floor of the House in parliamentary debate. The epitaph on Rantoul's monument says that "He died at his post in Congress, and his last words were a protest in the name of Democracy against the Fugitive-Slave Law." One of the verses of Whittier's poem, entitled "Rantoul," reads as follows:—

Through him we hoped to speak the word Which wins the freedom of a land; And lift, for human right, the sword Which dropped from Hampden's dying hand.

I first met the eccentric Count Adam Gurowski at the convivial tea table of Miss Emily Harper in Newport, upon one of those balmy summer evenings so indelibly impressed upon my memory. He was, perhaps, in many respects, one of the most remarkable characters that Washington has ever known. He was a son of Count Ladislas Gurowski, an ardent admirer of Kosciusko, and was active in revolutionary projects in Poland in consequence of which he was condemned to death by the Russian authorities. He managed, however, to escape and in 1835 published a work entitled "La Verite sur la Russie," in which he advocated a union of the various branches of the Slavic race. This book was so favorably regarded in Russia that its author was recalled and employed in the civil service. He came to this country in 1849, and, after being employed on the staff of The New York Tribune, came to Washington, where his linguistic attainments and the aid of Charles Sumner secured for him a position as translator in the State Department, which he held from 1861 to 1863.

The Count was a medley of strange whims and idiosyncrasies that almost baffle description. Together with his strong individuality, he possessed a trait which made many enemies and ultimately proved his undoing. I refer to his uncontrollable desire to contradict and to antagonize. It was simply impossible to find a subject upon which he and anyone else could agree. There were, however, extenuating circumstances. "Chill penury," forced upon him by the state of his financial affairs, had much to do with his cynical and acrimonious spirit. Prosperity is certainly conducive to an amiable bearing, and I believe that Gurowski would have been more conciliatory if adversity had not so persistently attended his pathway. It is highly probable, too, that Gurowski would have retained his position under the government indefinitely but for his unfortunate disposition. He wrote a diary from 1861 to 1863 which he was so indiscreet as to keep in his desk in the State Department; and, unknown at first to him, some of its pages were brought to the attention of certain officials of the government. They contained anything but complimentary references to his chief, William H. Seward, Secretary of State, and he was discharged. Meanwhile he had antagonized his benefactor, Mr. Sumner, by opposing, in a caustic manner, his views in reference to the conduct of the Civil War, and by other similar indiscretions was making new enemies almost every day.

The intense bitterness and intemperance of Gurowski in the expression of his views is well illustrated in a conversation quoted by one of his friends in The Atlantic Monthly more than forty years ago. It had reference to a period preceding the Civil War when the "Fugitive-Slave Law" was engrossing the attention of the country. "What do I care for Mr. Webster," he said. "I can read the Constitution as well as Mr. Webster." "But surely, Count, you would not presume to dispute Mr. Webster's opinion on a question of constitutional law?" "And why not? I tell you I can read the Constitution as well as Mr. Webster, and I say that the 'Fugitive-Slave Law' is unconstitutional—is an outrage, and an imposition of which you will all soon be ashamed. It is a disgrace to your humanity and to your republicanism, and Mr. Webster should be hung for advocating it. He is a humbug or an ass—an ass, if he believes such an infamous law to be constitutional, and if he does not believe it, he is a humbug and a scoundrel for advocating it."

The Count's sarcastic reference to Secretary Seward is equally amusing. It seems that one of his duties, while in the State Department, was to keep a close watch upon the European newspapers for matters of interest to our government, and also to furnish the Secretary of State, when requested, with opinions on diplomatic questions, or, as Gurowski expressed it, "to read the German newspapers and keep Seward from making a fool of himself." The first duty, he said, was easy enough, but the latter was rather difficult!

In 1854 Gurowski published his book, "Russia as it is," which was soon followed by another work entitled, "America and Europe." Both of them met with a favorable reception, but, after losing his government position, it became a difficult matter for him to eke out a maintenance, and his disposition, if possible, became still more embittered. At an evening party I took part by chance in an animated discussion upon the subject of dueling. Suddenly my eye lighted upon Count Gurowski, who had just entered the room. Calling him to my side I asked him in facetious tones how many men he had killed. He quickly responded, "Wonly (only) two!"

Count Gurowski's fund of knowledge was in many ways highly remarkable, especially upon his favorite theme of royalty and nobility, past and present. He was intensely disliked by the Diplomatic Corps in Washington, many of whose members regarded him as a Russian spy, a suspicion which, of course, was without the slightest foundation. Baron Waldemar Rudolph Raasloff, the Danish Minister, once refused to enter a box at the opera where I was seated because Gurowski was one of the party. The Count seemed to be in touch with sources of information relating to diplomats and their affairs which were unknown to others—a fact which naturally aroused dislike and jealousy. He once announced to me, for example, that the attaches of the French Legation were in a state of great good humor, as their salaries had been raised that day. I once heard a member of a foreign legation say to another: "Gurowski is an emanation of the Devil." "The Devil, you say," was the response, "why, he is the Devil himself." In discussing with a foreigner the Count's exile by the Russian government, I said that I knew of relatives of his in high position in Russia. Evidently controlled by his prejudices, he replied: "It must be a family of contrasts, as his position in this country is certainly a low one." If he intended to convey the impression that the Count was "low" in his pocket, his statement was certainly correct, but not otherwise. It is true that his unhappy disposition made him more enemies than friends, but he was by no means devoid of admirable traits, even if he so frequently preferred to conceal them. The finer side of his nature and his pleasing qualities only were presented to my sister, Mrs. Eames, who always welcomed him to her house. One day when he called the condition of his health seemed so precarious that she insisted upon his becoming her guest. He accepted the invitation, but did not long survive, and in the spring of 1866 his turbulent spirit passed away while under my sister's roof. Much respect was paid to his memory and the most distinguished men and women in Washington attended his funeral. He is buried in the Congressional Cemetery, where a crested tablet surmounts his grave. Little was generally known of his immediate family relations, but Robert Carter, one of his most intimate friends and the author of the article in The Atlantic Monthly, already referred to, states that he was a widower and had a son in the Russian Navy and a married daughter in Switzerland.

Early in life his brother, Count Ignatius Gurowski, met the Infanta Isabella de Bourbon, sister of the Prince Consort of Spain, while she was receiving her education at the Sacre Coeur in Paris, and eloped with her. They were pensioned by the Spanish government for a while under Queen Isabella's reign and made their home in Brussels. I have heard, however, that when Isabella was forced from the throne the pension ceased and their circumstances became quite reduced. It is said that the Prince Consort, Ignatius Gurowski's brother-in-law, suggested to him soon after his marriage that it might be well for him to be created a Duke of the realm. This friendly offer was declined with indignation. "I would prefer," said Gurowski, "being an old Count to a new Duke!"

Sometime ago I saw the statement in a newspaper to the effect that descendants of Ignatius Gurowski were living in the United States. This suggests, although remotely, the inquiry heard many years ago: "Have we a Bourbon among us?"—referring, of course, to the last Dauphin, whom many believed to exist in the person of the Rev. Eleazer Williams, who resided in St. Lawrence County, New York. The Rev. Dr. Francis L. Hawks had such an abiding faith that Williams was actually the Dauphin that he wrote an article in 1853 for Putnam's Magazine expressive of his views. If the newspaper story and Dr. Hawks's claims be true, this country has accordingly been the retreat of more than one member of the ill-fated Bourbon family. Several years ago I was surprised to hear it stated that the father of Kuroki, the famous Japanese General, was a brother of Adam and Ignatius Gurowski. This information, I am informed, came from a nephew of General Kuroki who was receiving his education in Europe. "My uncle Kuroki," he is said to have written, "is of Polish origin. His father was a Polish nobleman by the name of Kourowski, who fled from Russia after the Revolution of 1831. He finally went to Japan and married a Japanese. As the name of Kourowski is difficult to pronounce in Japanese, my uncle pronounced it Kuroki. The General's father, upon his death bed said to him that perhaps some day he would be able to take vengeance upon the Russians for their cruel treatment of unhappy Poland."

One of the most notable men of my acquaintance in Washington was Caleb Cushing. I first met him when he was Attorney-General in President Pierce's Cabinet, and the friendship formed at that time lasted for many years. He was among the guests at my wedding, and Miss Emily Harper, whom he accompanied, told me that he especially commented upon that portion of the service which reads, "those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder." His remarks evidently appealed to her as an ardent Roman Catholic. Ralph Waldo Emerson declared Mr. Cushing to be the most eminent scholar of the country, and Wendell Phillips went still further and said: "I regard Mr. Cushing as the most learned man living." His habit was one of constant acquirement. He was what I should call "a Northern man with Southern principles," an expression which originated in 1835, and was first applied to Martin Van Buren. I have heard Cushing defend slavery with great eloquence and although, like him, I was born and bred in the North, I regarded that institution, in some respects, as far less iniquitous than the infamous opium trade which so enriched British and American merchants, and of which I saw so much during my life in China.

It must have been from his Pilgrim forefather that Mr. Cushing inherited a decided antipathy for Great Britain, and it was once said that he carried this prejudice so far that he refused to visit England. This statement, however, is untrue, as I have before me an amusing article, written many years ago by his private secretary, during his mission to Spain, which contradicts it. He gives some amusing incidents connected with his visit of a few days in London when he and Mr. Cushing were en route to Spain. "Mr. Cushing's headwear," he writes, "was a silk hat which must have been the fashion of about the time he discarded umbrellas. It was slightly pointed at the top and there was, so to say, no back or front to it and there was no band for it. As I knew he intended paying several visits, I asked him if he would not exchange his hat, which at the time was thoroughly soaked, for a new and lighter one. The old man took off his ancient hat, examined it critically and then said slowly and deliberately, as if delivering an opinion on the bench, 'No, sir, I think that I shall wait and see what the fashions are in Madrid.' It was said with much earnestness, as if it had been a state question. A third person would have found it irresistibly funny, but there was nothing laughable in it to General Cushing. In fact, his sense of humor was of a very grim order." He also writes: "The old man was an inveterate smoker, and yet, during the whole period of my intercourse with him, I did not see him light a score of fresh cigars. He bought them, that is certain, but he must have been averse to lighting them in public for he almost invariably had a stump between his lips. Ask him if he would have a cigar and the answer would be, 'Thank you, sir, I think I have one,' and out would come a dilapidated case, from which he would shake from one to half a dozen butts as the supply ran."

While Cushing was Attorney-General under President Pierce, he formed a friendship with Madame Calderon de la Barca, of whom I have already spoken, who, upon his arrival in Madrid, was one of the first persons to greet him. She was then a widow and occupied a high social position at the Spanish court. Cushing and she thoroughly enjoyed the renewal of their earlier friendship in Washington, and the last visit he made in Madrid was when he bade her a final farewell. In 1843, and prior to his mission to Spain, Mr. Cushing was appointed by President Tyler Minister to China, where his able diplomacy has been the subject of recognition and admiration to this day. He carried with him the following remarkable letter which he was charged by the President to deliver in person to the Emperor. It may have been—who knows?—the first lesson in occidental geography submitted to the "Brother of the Sun and the Sister of the Moon and Stars." Had the President of the United States been called upon to address a country Sunday School, he could hardly have exhibited a more conscious effort to adapt himself to the level of his hearers. This is the letter:—

I, John Tyler, President of the United States of America—which states are Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Louisiana, Indiana, Mississippi, Illinois, Alabama, Missouri, Arkansas and Michigan—send this letter of peace and friendship, signed by my own hand.

I hope your health is good. China is a great empire, extending over a great part of the world. The Chinese are numerous. You have millions and millions of subjects. The twenty-six United States are as large as China, though our people are not so numerous. The rising sun looks upon the great mountains and great rivers of China. When he sets he looks upon mountains and rivers equally large in the United States. Our territories extend from one great ocean to the other; and on the west we are divided only from your domain by the sea. Leaving the mouth of one of our great rivers and going constantly towards the setting sun we sail to Japan and the Yellow Sea.

Now, my words are that the governments of two such great countries should be at peace. It is proper and according to the will of heaven that they should respect each other and act wisely. I therefore send to your Court Caleb Cushing one of the wise and learned men of this country. On his first arrival in China he will inquire for your health. He has strict orders to go to your great city of Pekin and there to deliver this letter. He will have with him secretaries and interpreters.

The Chinese love to trade with our people and sell them tea and silk for which our people pay silver and sometimes other articles. But if the Chinese and Americans will trade there should be rules so that they shall not break your laws or our laws. Our minister, Caleb Cushing, is authorized to make a treaty to regulate trade. Let it be just. Let there be no unfair advantage on either side. Let the people trade not only at Canton, but also at Amoy, Ningpo, Shanghai, Fushan and all such other places as may offer profitable exchanges both to China and the United States, provided they do not break your laws or our laws. We shall not take the part of the evil doers. We shall not uphold them that break your laws. Therefore we doubt that you will be pleased that our messenger of peace, with this letter in hand, shall come to Pekin and there deliver it, and that your great officers will, by your order, make a treaty with him to regulate the affairs of trade, so that nothing may happen to disturb the peace between China and America. Let the treaty be signed by your own imperial hand. It shall be signed by mine, by the authority of the great council, the Senate.

And so may your health be good and may peace reign.

Written at Washington this twelfth day of July, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and forty-three.

Your good friend,

JOHN TYLER, President.

Mr. Cushing accordingly negotiated our first treaty with China on the 3d of July of the following year, and his ability at that time, as well as thereafter, won for him, irrespective of party affiliations, an enviable place in the history of American diplomacy. He was sent upon his mission to Spain in 1874 by the party which he had opposed from its first organization, and his diplomatic erudition was indispensable to the State Department during the Grant administration.

Certain events in the career of Mr. Cushing serve to recall the days of Mr. and Mrs. Franklin Pierce, whose lives were clouded by a grief that saddened the whole of their subsequent career. A short time before Pierce's inauguration, the President-elect with Mrs. Pierce and their only son, a lad of immature years, were on their way to Andover in Massachusetts, when the child was accidentally killed. Mrs. Pierce never could be diverted from her all-absorbing sorrow, and I shall always remember the grief-stricken expression of this first Lady of the Land. Her maiden name was Jane Means Appleton, and she was the daughter of the Rev. Dr. Jesse Appleton, President of Bowdoin College. During the Pierce administration, Judge John Cadwalader, the father of the present John Cadwalader of Philadelphia, was a member of Congress. The son was then a mere lad, but he bore such a strong resemblance to the President's son that one day when Mrs. Pierce met him she was completely overcome. After this boy had become a man and had attained exceptional eminence at the bar, he feelingly alluded to this touching incident of his earlier days.

I was very intimately acquainted with Elizabeth and Fanny MacNeil, President Pierce's nieces, who were occasional visitors at the White House. They were daughters of General John MacNeil, U.S.A., who had acquitted himself with distinction in the War of 1812. Elizabeth married, as before stated, General Henry W. Benham of the Engineer Corps of the Army, and Fanny became the wife of Colonel Chandler E. Potter, U.S.A. Dr. Thomas Miller was our family physician for many years. He came to Washington from Loudoun County, Virginia, and married Miss Virginia Collins Jones, daughter of Walter Jones, an eminent lawyer. During the Pierce administration he was physician to the President's family.



CHAPTER XI

MARRIAGE AND CONTINUED LIFE IN WASHINGTON

I met my future father-in-law, Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., for the first time in Cold Spring, New York. Mr. Gouverneur, accompanied by his second wife, then a bride, who was Miss Mary Digges Lee, of Needwood, Frederick County, Maryland, and a granddaughter of Thomas Sim Lee, second Governor of the same state, was the guest of Gouverneur Kemble. When I first knew Mr. Gouverneur he possessed every gift that fortune as well as nature can bestow. To quote the words of Eliab Kingman, a lifelong friend of his and who for many years was the Nestor of the Washington press, "he even possessed a seductive voice." General Scott, prior to my marriage into the family, remarked to me that there "was something in Mr. Gouverneur lacking of greatness."

The history of my husband's family is so well known that it seems almost superfluous to dwell upon it, but, as these reminiscences are purely personal, I may at least incidentally refer to it. Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., was the youngest child of Nicholas Gouverneur and his wife, Hester Kortright, a daughter of Lawrence Kortright, a prominent merchant of New York and at one time president of its Chamber of Commerce. He was graduated from Columbia College in New York in the class of 1817, and married his first cousin, Maria Hester Monroe, the younger daughter of James Monroe. This wedding took place in the East Room of the White House. My husband, Samuel L. Gouverneur, Jr., was the youngest child of this alliance. The National Intelligencer of March 11, 1820, contained the following brief marriage notice:

Married

On Thursday evening last [March 9th], in this City, by the Reverend Mr. [William] Hawley, Samuel Laurence Gouverneur, Esq., of New York, to Miss Maria Hester Monroe, youngest daughter of James Monroe, President of the United States.

For a number of years Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., was private secretary to his father-in-law, President Monroe. In 1825 he was a member of the New York Legislature, and from 1828 to 1836 Postmaster of the City of New York. For many years, like the gentlemen of his day and class, he was much interested in racehorses and at one time owned the famous horse, Post Boy. He was also deeply interested in the drama and it was partially through his efforts that many brilliant stars were brought to this country to perform at the Bowery Theater in New York, of which he was a partial owner. Among its other owners were Prosper M. Wetmore, the well-known author and regent of the University of the State of New York, and General James A. Hamilton, son of Alexander Hamilton and acting Secretary of State in 1829, under Jackson. Mr. Gouverneur was a man of decidedly social tastes and at one period of his life owned and occupied the De Menou buildings on H Street in Washington, where, during the life of his first wife, he gave some brilliant entertainments. It was from this house that his son, and my future husband, went to the Mexican War. Many years subsequent to my marriage I heard Rear Admiral John J. Almy, U.S.N., describe some of the entertainments given by the Gouverneur family, and he usually wound up his reminiscences by informing me that sixteen baskets of champagne were frequently consumed by the guests during a single evening. My old friend, Emily Mason, loved to refer to these parties and told me that she made her debut at one of them. The house was well adapted for entertainments, as there were four spacious drawing-rooms, two on each side of a long hall, one side being reserved for dancing.

At the time of the Gouverneur-Monroe wedding the bride was but sixteen years of age, and many years younger than her only sister, Eliza, who was the wife of Judge George Hay of Virginia, the United States District-Attorney of that State, and the prosecuting officer at the trial of Aaron Burr. Mrs. Hay was educated in Paris at Madame Campan's celebrated school, where she was the associate and friend of Hortense de Beauharnais, subsequently the Queen of Holland and the mother of Napoleon III. The Rev. Dr. William Hawley, who performed the marriage ceremony of Miss Monroe and Mr. Gouverneur, was the rector of old St. John's Church in Washington. He was a gentleman of the old school and always wore knee breeches and shoe buckles. In the War of 1812 he commanded a company of divinity students in New York, enlisted for the protection of the city. It is said that when ordered to the frontier he refused to go and resigned his commission, and I have heard that Commodore Stephen Decatur refused to attend St. John's Church during his rectorship, because he said he did not care to listen to a man who refused to obey orders.



Only the relatives and personal friends attended the Gouverneur-Monroe wedding at the White House; even the members of the Cabinet were not invited. The gallant General Thomas S. Jesup, one of the heroes of the War of 1812 and Subsistance Commissary General of the Army, acted as groomsman to Mr. Gouverneur. Two of his daughters, Mrs. James Blair and Mrs. Augustus S. Nicholson, still reside at the National Capital and are prominent "old Washingtonians." After this quiet wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur left Washington upon a bridal tour and about a week later returned to the White House, where, at a reception, Mrs. Monroe gave up her place as hostess to mingle with her guests, while Mrs. Gouverneur received in her place. Commodore and Mrs. Stephen Decatur, who lived on Lafayette Square, gave the bride her first ball, and two mornings later, on the twenty-second of March, 1820, Decatur fought his fatal duel with Commodore James Barron and was brought home a corpse. "The bridal festivities," wrote Mrs. William Winston Seaton, wife of the editor of The National Intelligencer, "have received a check which will prevent any further attentions to the President's family, in the murder of Decatur." The invitations already sent out for an entertainment in honor of the bride and groom by Commodore David Porter, father of the late Admiral David D. Porter, U.S.N., were immediately countermanded.

I never had the pleasure of knowing my mother-in-law, Mrs. Maria Hester Monroe Gouverneur, as she died some years before my marriage, but I learned to revere her through her son, whose tender regard for her was one of the absorbing affections of his life and changed the whole direction of his career. At an early age he was appointed a Lieutenant in the regular Army and served with distinction through the Mexican War in the Fourth Artillery. On one occasion subsequent to that conflict, while his mother was suffering from a protracted illness, he applied to the War Department for leave of absence in order that he might visit her sick bed; and when it was not granted he resigned his commission and thus sacrificed an enviable position to his sense of filial duty. Many years later, after my husband's decease, in looking over his papers I found these lines written by him just after his mother's death:—

"A man through life has but one true friend and that friend generally leaves him early. Man enters the lists of life but ere he has fought his way far that friend falls by his side; he never finds another so fond, so true, so faithful to the last—His Mother!"

Mrs. Gouverneur was somewhat literary in her tastes and, like many others of her time, regarded it as an accomplishment to express herself in verse on sentimental occasions. One of my daughters, whom she never saw, owns the original manuscript of the following lines written as a tribute of friendship to the daughter of President John Tyler, at the time of her marriage:—

TO MISS TYLER ON HER WEDDING DAY.

The day, the happy day, has come That gives you to your lover's arms; Check not the tear or rising bloom That springs from all those strange alarms.

To be a blest and happy wife Is what all women wish to prove; And may you know through all your life The dear delights of wedded love.

'Tis not strange that you should feel Confused in every thought and feeling; Your bosom heave, the tear should steal At thoughts of all the friends you're leaving.

Happy girl may your life prove, All sunshine, joy and purest pleasure; One long, long day of happy love, Your husband's joy, his greatest treasure.

Be to him all that woman ought, In joy and health and every sorrow; Let his true pleasures be only sought With you to-day, with you to-morrow.

Believe not that in palace walls 'Tis only there that joy you'll find; At home with friends in your own halls There's more content and peace of mind.

More splendor you may find 'tis true, And glitter, show, and elevation, But if the world of you speak true, You prize not wealth or this high station.

Your heart's too pure, your mind too high, To prize such empty pomp and state; You leave such scenes without a sigh To court the joys that on you wait.

After meeting Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur, my future husband's father and his second wife, at Cold Spring, I renewed my acquaintance with them in Washington, where they were living in an old-fashioned house on New York Avenue, between Fourteenth and Fifteenth Streets. We often welcomed Mrs. Gouverneur as a guest at our Washington home and I was subsequently invited to visit her at their country seat, Needwood, Frederick County, Maryland, located upon a tract of land chiefly composed of large farms at one time owned exclusively by the Lee family. I quote Mrs. Gouverneur's graceful letter of invitation:—

My dear Miss Campbell,

I can not refrain from writing to remind you of your promise to us; this must be about the time fixed upon, (at least we all feel as if it was), and the season is so delightful, not to mention the strawberries which will be in great perfection this week—these reasons, together with our great desire to see you, determined me to give you warning that we are surely expecting you, and hope to hear very soon from you to say when we may send to the Knoxville depot for you. I would be so much gratified if Mrs. Eames would come with you; it would give us all the sincerest pleasure, and I do not think that such a journey would be injurious. You leave Washington to come here on the early (6 o'clock) train, get out at the Relay House, and wait until the western cars pass, (about 8 o'clock), get into them, and reach Knoxville at 12 o'clock. So you see that altogether you have only six hours, and you rest more than half an hour at the Relay House. From Knoxville our carriage brings you to "Needwood" in less than an hour. If there is any gentleman you would like to come as an escort Mr. G. and myself will be most happy to see him. Dr. Jones, you know, does intend to travel about a little and said he would come to see us; perhaps he will come with you, or Mr. Hibbard I should be most happy to see—anyone in short whom you choose to bring will be most welcome. Tell Mr. Hibbard I read his speech and admired it as I presume everyone does. Good-bye, dear Miss Campbell. I hope you will aid me in persuading Mrs. Eames to come with you. My warmest regards to Mrs. Campbell and your sisters, in which my sister [Mrs. Eugene H. Lynch] and Mr. Gouverneur unite.

Believe me, yours most truly,

M. D. GOUVERNEUR.

Needwood, May 22nd, 1854.

I accepted the invitation and, while I was Mrs. Gouverneur's guest, my sister Margaret was visiting one of the adjoining places at the home of Colonel John Lee, whose wife's maiden name was Harriet Carroll. She was a granddaughter of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, and their home was the former residence of another ancestor, Governor Thomas Sim Lee of Maryland. During my visit at Needwood I renewed the acquaintance of my future husband, which I had formed a number of years before at the wedding of Miss Fanny Monroe and Douglas Robinson, of which I have previously spoken. It is unnecessary to refer to his appearance, which I have already described, but I am sure it is not unnatural for me to add that a year after the conclusion of the Mexican War he was brevetted for gallantry and meritorious conduct in the battles of Contreras and Churubusco. While his general bearing spoke well for his military training, his mind was a storehouse of information which I learned to appreciate more and more as the years rolled by. But of all his fine characteristics I valued and revered him most for his fine sense of honor and sterling integrity. Like his mother, Mr. Gouverneur was literary in his tastes and occasionally gave vent to his feelings in verse. In 1852 Oak Hill, the stately old Monroe place in Virginia where he had spent much of his early life, was about to pass out of the family. He was naturally much distressed over the sale of the home so intimately associated with his childhood's memory, and a few days prior to his final departure wrote the following lines. In after years nothing could ever induce him to visit Oak Hill.

FAREWELL TO OAK HILL, 1852, ON DEPARTING THENCE.

The autumn rains are falling fast, Earth, the heavens are overcast; The rushing winds mournful sigh, Whispering, alas! good-bye; To each fond remembrance farewell and forever, Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

The mighty oaks beneath whose shade In boyhood's happier hours I've played, Bend to the mountain blast's wild sweep, Scattering spray they seem to weep; To each moss-grown tree farewell and forever, Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

The little mound now wild o'ergrown, On the bosom of which my tears have oft flown, Where my mother beside her mother lies sleeping, O'er them the rank grass, bright dew drops are weeping; To that hallowed spot farewell and forever, Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

Oh, home of my boyhood, why must I depart? Tears I am shedding and wild throbs my heart; Home of my manhood, oh! would I had died And lain me to rest by my dead mother's side, Ere my tongue could have uttered farewell and forever, Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

Mr. Gouverneur's pathetic allusion to the graves of his mother and grandmother affords me an opportunity of saying that in 1903 the Legislature of Virginia appropriated a sum of money sufficient to remove the remains of Mrs. Monroe and her daughter, Mrs. Gouverneur, from Oak Hill. They now rest in Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia, on opposite sides of the grave of James Monroe.

The friendship of Mr. Gouverneur and myself ripened into a deep affection, and the winter following my visit to Needwood we announced our engagement. I was warmly welcomed into the Gouverneur family, as will appear from the following letter:

I can not longer defer, my dear Marian, expressing the great gratification I experienced when Sam informed me of his happiness in having gained your heart. It is most agreeable to me that you of all the women I know should be the object of his choice. How little I anticipated such a result from the short visit you made us last summer. Sam is in an Elysium of bliss. I have lately had a charming letter from him, of course all about his lady love. I think you too have every reason to anticipate a life of happiness, not more marred than we must all look for in this world. Sam is very warm-hearted and affectionate and possesses a fine mind, as you know, and when he marries, you will have nothing to wish for. These are his own sentiments and I assure you I entirely agree with him.

Mr. Gouverneur is greatly gratified and both wrote and told me how nobly you expressed yourself to him.

I am going to Baltimore to-day to meet Mr. G. and perhaps may go to Washington. If I do you will see me soon after I arrive there. I feel as if I should like so much to talk to my future daughter. I take the warmest interest in everything concerning Sam's happiness, and my heart is now overflowing with thankfulness to you for having contributed so much to it.

Please remember me in the kindest manner to your mother, whose warm hospitality I have not forgotten, and to the girls. My sincere congratulations to Margaret who Mary [Lee] writes me is as happy as the day is long. Ellen desires me to present her congratulations to you and Margaret.

Believe me, very sincerely yours,

M. D. GOUVERNEUR.

Needwood, Feb. 14th.

I was married in Washington in the old G Street house, and the occasion was made especially festive by the presence of many friends from out of town. We were married by the Rev. Dr. Smith Pyne, rector of St. John's Episcopal Church, and I recall his nervous state of mind, owing to the fact that he had forgotten to inquire whether a marriage license had been procured; but when he was assured that everything was in due form he was quite himself again. Among those who came from New York to attend the wedding were General Scott; my father's old friend and associate, Hugh Maxwell; his daughter, now the wife of Rear Admiral John H. Upshur, U.S.N.; and Miss Sally Strother and her mother. Miss Emily Harper and Mrs. Solomon B. Davies, who was Miss Bettie Monroe, my husband's relative, came from Baltimore and, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur and Miss Mary Lee from Needwood were also present.

My own family circle was small, as my sister, Mrs. Eames, and her young children were in Venezuela, where her husband was the U.S. Minister; but I was married in the presence of my mother, my two younger sisters, Margaret and Charlotte, and my brothers, James and Malcolm. Mr. Gouverneur's only sister, Elizabeth, who some years before had married Dr. Henry Lee Heiskell, Assistant Surgeon General of the Army, accompanied by her husband and son, the late James Monroe Heiskell, of Baltimore, a handsome and promising youth, were also there. Among the other guests were Charles Sumner, Caleb Cushing and Stephen A. Douglas, none of whom at that time were married; Peter Grayson Washington, then Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, and a relative of my husband; Miss Katharine Maria Wright, who shortly thereafter married Baron J. C. Gevers, Charge d'affaires from Holland; her brother, Edward Wright, of Newark; John G. Floyd of Long Island; James Guthrie, Secretary of the Treasury, and his two daughters; William L. Marcy, Secretary of State, and his wife; their daughter, Miss Cornelia Marcy, subsequently Mrs. Edmund Pendleton; Baron von Grabow and Alexandre Gau of the Prussian Legation, the latter of whom married my sister, Margaret, the following year; Mr. and Mrs. William T. Carroll; Lieutenant (subsequently Rear Admiral) James S. Palmer of the Navy; Jerome E. Kidder of Boston, and General William J. Hardee, U.S.A.

A few days before my marriage I received the following letter from Edward Everett:—

BOSTON, 23 Feb.

My dear Miss Campbell,

I had much pleasure in receiving this morning Mrs. Campbell's invitation and your kind note of the 20th. I am greatly indebted to you for remembering me on an occasion of so much interest and importance, and I beg to offer you my sincere congratulations.

Greatly would it rejoice me to be able to avail myself of your invitation to be present at your nuptials.

But the state of my health and of my family makes this impossible. But I shall certainly be with you in spirit, and with cordial wishes for your happiness.

Praying my kindest remembrance to your mother and sisters, I remain,

my dear Miss Campbell,

Sincerely your friend,

EDWARD EVERETT.

P.S. I suppose you saw in the papers a day or two ago that poor Miss Russell is gone.

The Miss Russell referred to by Mr. Everett was Miss Ida Russell, one of three handsome and brilliant sisters prominent in Boston in the society of the day.

Soon after my marriage my husband and I made a round of visits to his numerous family connections. It is with more than usual pleasure that I recall the beautiful old home of Mr. Gouverneur's aunt, Mrs. Thomas Cadwalader, near Trenton, which a few years later was destroyed by fire. A guest of the Cadwaladers at the same time with ourselves was my husband's first cousin, the Rev. Robert Livingston Tillotson of New York, who studied for the Episcopal ministry and subsequently entered the Roman Catholic priesthood.

From Trenton, we journeyed to Yonkers, New York, to visit the Van Cortlandt family at the historic manor-house in that vicinity. It was then owned and occupied by Mr. Gouverneur's relatives, Dr. Edward N. Bibby and his son, Augustus, the latter of whom had recently changed his name from Bibby to Van Cortlandt, as a consideration for the inheritance of this fine old estate. Dr. Bibby married Miss Augusta White of the Van Cortlandt descent, and for many years was a prominent physician in New York City. When I visited the family, he had retired from active practice and was enjoying a serene old age surrounded by his children and grandchildren. Henry Warburton Bibby, the Doctor's second son, was also one of this household at the time of our visit. He never married but retained his social tastes until his death a few years ago.

In the drawing-room of the Van Cortlandt home stood a superb pair of brass andirons in the form of lions, which had been presented to Mrs. Augustus Van Cortlandt by my husband's mother as a bridal present. They had been brought by James Monroe upon his return from France, where he had been sent upon his historic diplomatic mission by Washington. The style of life led by the Van Cortlandt family was fascinating to me as, even at this late date, they clung to many of the old family customs inherited from their ancestors. Our next visit was to the cottage of William Kemble in Cold Spring, and it seemed to me like returning to an old and familiar haunt. My marriage into the Gouverneur family added another link in the chain of friendship attaching me to the members of the Kemble family, as they were relatives of my husband. I was entertained while there by the whole family connection, and I recall with especial pleasure the dinner parties at Gouverneur Kemble's and at Mrs. Robert P. Parrott's. Martin Van Buren was visiting "Uncle Gouv" at the time, and I was highly gratified to meet him again, as his presence not only revived memories of childhood's days during my father's lifetime in New York, but also materially assisted in rendering the entertainments given in my honor at Cold Spring unusually delightful. From Cold Spring we drove to The Grange, near Garrison's, another homestead familiar to me in former days, and the residence of Frederick Philipse, where I renewed my acquaintance with old friends who now greeted me as a relative. At this beautiful home I saw a pair of andirons even handsomer than those at the Van Cortlandt mansion. They were at least two feet high and represented trumpeters. The historic house was replete with ancestral furniture and fine old portraits, one of which was attributed to Vandyke.

The whole Philipse and Gouverneur connection at Garrison's were devoted Episcopalians and were largely instrumental in building a fine church at Garrison's, which they named St. Philips. In more recent years a congregation of prominent families has worshiped in this edifice—among others, the Fishes, Ardens, Livingstons, Osborns and Sloanes. For many years the beloved rector of this church was the Rev. Dr. Charles F. Hoffman, a gentleman of great wealth and much scholarly ability. He and his brother, the late Rev. Dr. Eugene A. Hoffman, Dean of the General Theological Seminary in New York, devoted their lives and fortunes to the cause of religion. Residents of New York are familiar with All Angels Church, built by the late Rev. Dr. Charles F. Hoffman on West End Avenue, of which he was rector for a number of years. During his life at Garrison's, both Dr. and Mrs. Hoffman were very acceptable to my husband's relatives, especially as the Doctor was connected with the family by right of descent from a Gouverneur forbear. Charles F. Hoffman married Miss Eleanor Louisa Vail, a daughter of David M. Vail of New Brunswick, New Jersey, who in every way proved herself an able helpmeet to him. Mrs. Hoffman was educated at Miss Hannah Hoyt's school in New Brunswick, a fashionable institution of the day, and at a reunion of the scholars held in recent years, she was mentioned in the following appropriate manner: "Nearly half a century ago, in the well-known Miss Hoyt's school, was Eleanor Louisa Vail who was noted for her good lessons and considerate ways towards all. She never overlooked those who were less fortunate than herself, but gave aid to any who needed it, either in their lessons or in a more substantial form. In the wider circle of New York the benevolent Mrs. Hoffman, the wife of the late generous rector of All Angels Church, but fulfilled the promise made by the beautiful girl of former days." Mr. and Mrs. Charles F. Hoffman's daughter, Mrs. J. Van Vechten Olcott, is as beloved in her generation as her mother was before her.

Samuel Mongan Warburton Gouverneur, a younger brother of Frederick Philipse, was living at The Grange at the time of my visit. Some years later he built a handsome house in the neighborhood which he called "Eagle's Rest," and resided there with his sister, Miss Mary Marston Gouverneur. After his death, the place was sold to the late Louis Fitzgerald, who made it his home.

After six months spent in the mountainous regions of Maryland, not far from Cumberland, on property owned by my husband's family, Mr. Gouverneur and I returned to Washington and began our married life in my mother's home. Soon after we had settled down, my eldest daughter was born. The death of my sister, Mrs. Alexandre Gau, from typhoid fever soon followed. It was naturally a terrible shock to us all and especially to me, as we were near of an age and our lives had been side by side from infancy. My mother, in her great affliction, broke up her home and Mr. Gouverneur and I rented a house on Twelfth Street, near N Street, a locality then regarded as quite suburban. Here I endeavored to live in the closest retirement, as the meeting with friends of former days only served to bring my sorrow more keenly before me.

Meanwhile my whole life was devoted to the little girl whom we had named Maud Campbell, and who, of course, had become "part and parcel" of my quiet life. Mr. Gouverneur was the last surviving member of his family in the male line, and the whole family connection was looking to me to perpetuate his name. Soon after the birth of my daughter my husband received the following characteristic letter from Mr. Gouverneur's aunt, Mrs. David Johnstone Verplanck, who before her marriage was Louisa A. Gouverneur, a gifted woman whose home was in New York:

THURSDAY, April 10th.

My dear Sam,

In return for your kind recollections I hasten to offer my most sincere congratulations to yourself and Mrs. G. As husband and father you have now realized all the romance of life, the pleasures of which I have little doubt you already begin to feel deeply intermingled with many anxious hours. It is wisest and best to enjoy all that good fortune sends and fortify ourselves to meet and endure the trials to which our Destiny has allotted.

Tell Mrs. G. that we must send for the girdle the old woman sent the Empress Eugenie. She had a succession of seven sons, and requested her to wear it for luck. As it was very dirty the royal lady sent it back. It might be procured and undergo the purifying influence of water. All I can say at present to console your disappointment I hope a son will soon consummate all your joys and wishes. You know it rests with you to keep the name of Gouverneur in the land of the living. It is nearly extinct and you its only salvation.

I regret to hear your father is unwell at Barnum's [Hotel, Baltimore]. I hope he will soon be with us. I long to see him.

Believe me always your friend,

LOUISA VERPLANCK.

I also append a letter received by Mr. Gouverneur from Mrs. William Kemble (Margaret Chatham Seth), which recalled many tender associations.

NEW YORK 11th April.

I need not tell you, my dear friend, how much we were all gratified by your kind remembrance of us, in the midst of your own anxiety and joy, to give us the first news of our dear Marian's safety. Give my very best love to her and a kiss to Miss Gouverneur with whom I hope to be better acquainted hereafter.

Mr. and Mrs. Nourse with our dear little Charlie left us yesterday for Washington. You will probably see them before you receive this. I feel assured that Marian is blessed in being with her mother who has every experience necessary for her. Therefore it is idle for me to give my advice but I must say, keep her quiet, not to be too smart or anxious to show her baby—at first—and she will be better able to do it afterwards. May God bless you all three and that this dear pledge committed to your charge be to you both every comfort and joy that your anxious hearts can wish. Please to give my best regards and wishes to Mrs. Campbell and her daughter from

your sincerely attached friend and cousin,

M. C. KEMBLE.

On the corner of Fourteenth and P Streets, and not far from our home, was the residence of Eliab Kingman, an intimate friend of Mr. Gouverneur's father. This locality, now such a business center, was decidedly rural, and Mr. Kingman's quaint and old-fashioned house was in the middle of a small farm. It was an oddly constructed dwelling and the interior was made unusually attractive by its wealth of curios, among which was a large collection of Indian relics. After his death I attended an auction held in the old home and I remember that these curiosities were purchased by Ben Perley Poore, the well-known journalist. Although many years his senior, my husband found Mr. Kingman and his home a source of great pleasure to him, and he formed an attachment for his father's early friend which lasted through life. The Kingman house was the rendezvous of both literary and political circles. William H. Seward was one of its frequent visitors and I once heard him wittily remark that it might appropriately be worshiped, as it resembled nothing "that is in the Heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or the water under the earth." For a number of years Mr. Kingman was a correspondent of The Baltimore Sun under the nom de plume of "Ion." His communications were entirely confined to political topics and he was such a skilled diplomatist that the adherents of either party, after perusing them, might easily recognize him as their own advocate. Thomas Seaton Donoho, of whom I shall speak presently, was a warm friend of Mr. Kingman and the constant recipient of his hospitality. Among his poems is a graceful sonnet entitled

E. KINGMAN.

Ever will I remember with delight Strawberry Knoll; not for the berries red, As, ere my time, the vines were out of bed, And gone; but many a day and many a night Have given me argument to love it well, Whether in Summer, 'neath its perfumed shade, Whether by moonlight's magic wand arrayed, Or when in Winter's lap the rose leaves fell, For pleasant faces ever there were found, For genial welcome ever met me there, And thou, my friend, when thought went smiling round, Madest her calm look, reflecting thine, more fair. Those who have known thee as a Statesman, know Thy noon-day: I have felt thy great heart's sunset glow!

Mr. Kingman married Miss Cordelia Ewell of Virginia, a relative of General Richard S. Ewell of the Confederate Army. She was in some respects a remarkable character, a "dyed-in-the-wool" Southerner and a woman of unusual personal charm and ability. In dress, manner and general appearance she presented a fitting reminder of the grande dame of long ago. Her style of dress reminded one of the Quaker school. Her gray gown with a white kerchief crossed neatly upon her breast and her gray hair with puffs clustered around her ears, together with her quaint manner of courtesying as she greeted her guests, suggested the familiar setting of an old-fashioned picture. She was an accomplished performer upon the harp as well as an authority upon old English literature. In all the years I knew her I never heard of her leaving her house. She had no children and her constant companion was a venerable parrot.

John Savage, familiarly known as "Jack" Savage, was an intimate friend of the Kingmans and also a frequent guest of ours. He was an Irish patriot of 1848 and was remarkable for his versatility. He had a fine voice, and I remember seeing him on one occasion hold his audience spell-bound while singing "The Temptation of St. Anthony." He was an accomplished journalist and the author of several books, one of which, "The Modern Revolutionary History and Literature of Ireland," has been pronounced the best work extant "on the last great revolutionary era of the Irish race."

After the Civil War I often met at Mr. Kingman's house General Benjamin F. Butler, whose withering gift of sarcasm is still remembered. Simon Cameron, Lincoln's first Secretary of War, was also a frequent visitor there. He was an unusually genial and cordial gentleman, and some years later Mr. Kingman and my husband, upon his urgent invitation, visited him at his handsome country place, Lochiel, in Pennsylvania. His fine graperies made such a vivid impression upon my husband that his description of them almost enabled me to see the luscious fruit itself before me.

My old friends, Purser Horatio Bridge, U.S.N., and his wife, lived on the corner of K and Fourteenth Streets at a hotel then known as the Rugby House. Mrs. Bridge was a sister of the famous beauty, Miss Emily Marshall, who married Harrison Gray Otis of Boston. Mr. Bridge, while on the active list, had been stationed for a time in Washington and, finding the life congenial and attractive, returned here after his retirement and with his wife made his home at the Rugby House. While there the hotel was offered for sale and was bought by Mr. Bridge, who enlarged it and changed its name to The Hamilton, in compliment to Mrs. Hamilton Holly, an intimate friend of Mrs. Bridge and the daughter of Alexander Hamilton. Mrs. Holly, my old and cherished friend, lived in a picturesque cottage on I Street, on the site of the present Russian embassy, where so many years later the wife and daughter of Benjamin F. Tracy, Harrison's Secretary of the Navy, lost their lives in a fire that destroyed the house. Among the attractions of this home was a remarkable collection of Hamilton relics which subsequent to Mrs. Holly's death was sold at public auction. The sale, however, did not attract any particular attention, as the craze for antiques had not yet developed and the souvenir fiend was then unknown.

It was while I was living on Twelfth Street that I first met Miss Margaret Edes, so well known in after years to Washingtonians. She was visiting her relatives, the Donoho family, which lived in my immediate vicinity. Her host's father was connected with The National Intelligencer, and the son, Thomas Seaton Donoho, was named after William Winston Seaton, one of its editors. Thomas Seaton Donoho was a truly interesting character. He was decidedly romantic in his ideas and many incidents of his life were curiously associated with the ivy vine. He planted a sprig of it in front of his three-story house, which was built very much upon the plan of every other dwelling in the neighborhood, and called his abode "Ivy Hall"; while his property in the vicinity of Washington he named "Ivy City," a locality so well known to-day by the same name to the sporting fraternity. His book of poems, published in Washington in 1860, is entitled "Ivy-wall"; and, to cap the climax, when a girl was born into the Donoho family she was baptized in mid-ocean as "Atlantic May Ivy." In addition to his poems, he published, in 1850, a drama in three acts, entitled, "Goldsmith of Padua," and two years later "Oliver Cromwell," a tragedy in five acts.

Soon after my marriage, Mr. Gouverneur acted as one of the pallbearers at the funeral of his early friend, Gales Seaton, the son of William Winston Seaton, and a most accomplished man of affairs. In those days honorary pallbearers were unknown and the coffin was borne to the grave by those with whom the deceased had been most intimately associated. The Seatons owned a family vault, and the body was carried down into it by Mr. Seaton's old friends. After the funeral I heard Mr. Gouverneur speak of observing a coffin which held the remains of Mrs. Francis Schroeder, who was Miss Caroline Seaton, and whose husband, the father of Rear Admiral Seaton Schroeder, U.S.N., was at one time U.S. Minister to Sweden and Norway. Seaton Munroe, a nephew of Gales Seaton, was prominent in Washington society. He never married and many persons regarded him as the Ward McAllister of the Capital. When Colonel Sanford C. Kellogg, U.S.A., then military attache of the U.S. Embassy in Paris, heard of Munroe's death, he wrote to a mutual friend: "I do not believe the man lives who has done more for the happiness and welfare of others than Seaton Munroe." He was one of the prominent founders of the Metropolitan Club, which commenced its career in the old Morris house on the corner of Vermont Avenue and H Street; and later, when it moved to the Graham residence on the corner of Fifteenth and H Streets, he continued to be one of its most popular and influential members.

In April, 1858, occurred the famous Gwin ball, so readily recalled by old Washingtonians. It was a fancy-dress affair, and it was the intention of Senator and Mrs. William McKendree Gwin of California that it should be the most brilliant of its kind that the National Capital had ever known. Of course Mr. Gouverneur and I did not attend, owing to my deep mourning, but I shall always remember the pleasure and amusement we derived in dressing Mr. Kingman for the occasion. We decked him out in the old court dress which Mr. Gouverneur's grandfather, James Monroe, wore during his diplomatic mission in France. As luck would have it the suit fitted him perfectly, and the next day it was quite as gratifying to us as to Mr. Kingman to hear that the costume attracted marked attention.

The ball was rightly adjudged a brilliant success. Among the guests was President Buchanan, though not, of course, in fancy dress. Senator Gwin represented Louis Quatorze; Ben Perley Poore, "Major Jack Downing"; Lord Napier, George Hammond—the first British Minister to the United States; Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, Aurora; Mrs. Jefferson Davis, Madame de Stael; and so on down the list. It is probable that the wife of Senator Clement C. Clay, of Alabama, who represented Mrs. Partington, attracted more attention and afforded more amusement than any other guest. Washington had fairly teemed with her brilliant repartee and other bright sayings, and upon this occasion she was, if possible, more than ever in her element. She had a witty encounter with the President and a familiar home-thrust for all whom she encountered. Many of the public characters present, when lashed by her sparkling humor, were either unable or unwilling to respond. She was accompanied by "Ike," Mrs. Partington's son, impersonated by a clever youth of ten years, son of John M. Sandidge of Louisiana. Mr. John Von Sonntag Haviland, formerly of the U.S. Army, wrote a metrical description of this ball, and in referring to Mrs. Clay, thus expresses himself:—

Mark how the grace that gilds an honored name, Gives a strange zest to that loquacious dame Whose ready tongue and easy blundering wit Provoke fresh uproar at each happy hit! Note how her humour into strange grimace Tempts the smooth meekness of yon Quaker's face.

* * * * *

But—denser grows the crowd round Partington; 'Twere vain to try to name them one by one.

Mr. Haviland added this to the above:—"Mrs. Senator Clay, with knitting in hand, snuff-box in pocket, and 'Ike, the Inevitable,' by her side, acted out her difficult character so as to win the unanimous verdict that her personation of the loquacious mal-aprops dame was the leading feature of the evening's entertainment. Go where she would through the spacious halls, a crowd of eager listeners followed her footsteps, drinking in her instant repartees, which were really superior in wit and appositeness, and, indeed, in the vein of the famous dame's cacoethes, even to the original contribution of Shillaber to the nonsensical literature of the day."

One of the guests at this ball was the wife of the late Major General William H. Emery, U.S.A., whose maiden name was Matilda Bache. She was arrayed for the evening in the garb of a Quakeress, and it is to her that Mr. Haviland alludes in his reference to the "smooth meekness of yon Quaker's face."

At the commencement of the Civil War, Senator Gwin was arrested on a charge of disloyalty and imprisoned until 1863. He then went to Paris, where he became interested in a scheme for the colonization by Southerners of the State of Sonora in Mexico, in consequence of which he was sometimes facetiously called the "Duke of Sonora." While thus engaged, he was invited to meet the Emperor, Napoleon III., in private audience, and succeeded in enlisting his sympathies. It is said that, upon the request of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, he formulated a plan for the colony which, after receiving the Emperor's approval, was submitted to Maximilian. The latter was then in Paris and requested Mr. Gwin's attendance at the Tuileries where, after diligent inquiry, the scheme received the approbation of Maximilian. Two weeks after the departure of the latter for Mexico, Mr. Gwin left for the same country, carrying with him an autograph letter of Napoleon III. to Marshal Bazaine. The scheme, however, received no encouragement from the latter, and Maximilian failed to give him any satisfactory assurances of his support. Returning to France in 1865, he secured an audience with the Emperor, to whom he exposed the condition of affairs in Mexico. Napoleon urged him to return to that country immediately with a peremptory order to Marshal Bazaine to supply a military force adequate to accomplish the project. This request was complied with but Mr. Gwin, after meeting with no success, demanded an escort to accompany him out of the country. This was promptly furnished, and he returned to his home in California.

It seems fitting in this connection to speak of a brilliant ball in Washington in 1824. Although, of course, I do not remember it, I have heard of it all my life and have gathered here and there certain facts of interest concerning it, some of which are not easily accessible. I refer to the ball given by Mrs. John Quincy Adams, whose husband was then Secretary of State under Monroe. Mrs. Adams' maiden name was Louisa Catharine Johnson and she was a daughter of Joshua Johnson, who served as our first United States Consul at London, and a niece of Thomas Johnson of Maryland. She gave receptions in Washington on Tuesday evenings which were attended by many of the most distinguished men and women of the day. This period, in fact, is generally regarded as, perhaps, the most brilliant era in Washington society. A generous hospitality was dispensed by such men as Madison, Monroe, Adams, Calhoun, Wirt, Rush, Southard, General Winfield Scott and General Alexander Macomb. The British Charge d'affaires at this time was Henry Unwin Addington. The Russian Minister was the Baron de Tuyll; while France, Spain and Portugal were represented by gentlemen of distinguished manners and rare accomplishments. The illustrious John Marshall was Chief Justice, with Joseph Story, Bushrod Washington, Smith Thompson and other eminent jurists by his side. In Congress were such men as Henry Clay, William Gaston, Rufus King, Daniel Webster, Andrew Jackson, Thomas H. Benton, William Jones Lowndes, John Jordan Crittenden and Harrison Gray Otis; while the Navy was represented by Stephen Decatur, David Porter, John Rodgers, Lewis Warrington, Charles Stewart, Charles Morris and others, some of whom made their permanent home at the Capital.

The ball given by the Secretary of State and Mrs. Adams was in honor of General Andrew Jackson, and was not only an expression of the pleasant personal relations existing between John Quincy Adams and Jackson only shortly before the former defeated the latter for the Presidency, but also a pleasing picture of Washington society at that time. General Jackson was naturally the hero of the occasion, and there was a throng of guests not only from Washington but also from Baltimore, Richmond and other cities. A current newspaper of the day published a metrical description of the event, written by John T. Agg:

MRS. ADAMS' BALL.

Wend you with the world to-night? Brown and fair and wise and witty, Eyes that float in seas of light, Laughing mouths and dimples pretty, Belles and matrons, maids and madams, All are gone to Mrs. Adams'; There the mist of the future, the gloom of the past, All melt into light at the warm glance of pleasure, And the only regret is lest melting too fast, Mammas should move off in the midst of a measure.

Wend you with the world to-night? Sixty gray, and giddy twenty, Flirts that court and prudes that slight, State coquettes and spinsters plenty; Mrs. Sullivan is there With all the charm that nature lent her; Gay McKim with city air, And winning Gales and Vandeventer; Forsyth, with her group of graces; Both the Crowninshields in blue; The Pierces, with their heavenly faces, And eyes like suns that dazzle through; Belles and matrons, maids and madams, All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

Wend you with the world to-night? East and West and South and North, Form a constellation bright, And pour a splendid brilliance forth. See the tide of fashion flowing, 'Tis the noon of beauty's reign, Webster, Hamiltons are going, Eastern Floyd and Southern Hayne; Western Thomas, gayly smiling, Borland, nature's protege, Young De Wolfe, all hearts beguiling, Morgan, Benton, Brown and Lee; Belles and matrons, maids and madams,' All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

Wend you with the world to-night? Where blue eyes are brightly glancing, While to measures of delight Fairy feet are deftly dancing; Where the young Euphrosyne Reigns the mistress of the scene, Chasing gloom, and courting glee, With the merry tambourine; Many a form of fairy birth, Many a Hebe, yet unwon, Wirt, a gem of purest worth, Lively, laughing Pleasanton; Vails and Tayloe will be there, Gay Monroe so debonair, Hellen, pleasure's harbinger, Ramsay, Cottringers and Kerr; Belles and matrons, maids and madams, All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

Wend you with the world to-night? Juno in her court presides, Mirth and melody invite, Fashion points, and pleasure guides; Haste away then, seize the hour, Shun the thorn and pluck the flower. Youth, in all its spring-time blooming, Age the guise of youth assuming, Wit through all its circles gleaming, Glittering wealth and beauty beaming; Belles and matrons, maids and madams, All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

The "Mrs. Sullivan" referred to was Sarah Bowdoin Winthrop, the wife of George Sullivan of Boston, son of Governor James Sullivan of Massachusetts; while "Winning Gales" was the wife of Joseph Gales, editor of The National Intelligencer. "Forsyth" was the wife of Senator John Forsyth of Georgia, who subsequently served as Secretary of State during Jackson's administration; and "the Crowninshields in blue" were daughters of Benjamin W. Crowninshield, Secretary of the Navy under Madison and Monroe. "The Pierces, with their heavenly faces," were handsome Boston women who in after life became converts to the Roman Catholic faith and entered convents. The "Vails" were Eugene and Aaron Vail, who were proteges of Senator William H. Crawford, of Georgia. They married sisters, daughters of Laurent Salles, a wealthy Frenchman living in New York. Aaron Vail accompanied Martin Van Buren to England as Secretary of Legation and for a season, after Van Buren's recall, acted as Charge d'affaires. "Tayloe" was Benjamin Ogle Tayloe, the distinguished Washingtonian. "Ramsay" was General George Douglas Ramsay, the father of Rear Admiral Francis M. Ramsay, U.S.N.; and "Hellen" was Mrs. Adams's niece, who subsequently became her daughter-in-law through her marriage to her son, John Adams. President Monroe attended this ball and both he and John Quincy Adams were somewhat criticised for their plain attire, which was in such striking contrast with the elaborate costumes and decorations worn by the foreign guests.

In his boyhood Mr. Gouverneur formed an intimacy with George H. Derby, better known in literary circles under the nom de plume of "John Phoenix." He is well remembered by students of American humor as a contemporary and rival of Artemus Ward. He was a member of a prominent Boston family, and of the class of 1846 at West Point. He was a gallant soldier, having been wounded during the Mexican War at Cerro Gordo, and was promoted for his bravery in that battle. Scarcely anyone was immune from his practical jokes, but, fortunately for his peace of mind, Mr. Gouverneur was acquainted with an incident of his life which, if known, would make him a butt of ridicule; and he accordingly felt perfectly safe in his companionship and well enjoyed his humorous exploits. One day Derby and Mr. Gouverneur were sauntering through the streets of Washington when the keen eye of the humorist was attracted by a sign over a store door which read, "Ladies' Depository"—the old-fashioned method of designating what would now be called a "Woman's Exchange." Turning to his companion, Derby remarked: "I have a little business to transact in this shop and I want you to go inside with me." They entered and were met by a smiling female to whom Derby remarked: "My wife will be here to-morrow morning. I am so pleased to have discovered this depository. I hope that you will take good care of her. Expect her at eleven. Good-morning."

In the early '50's Adjutant General Roger Jones determined to adopt a new uniform for the U.S. Army, and Derby was thus afforded a conspicuous opportunity to exercise his wit. He was an excellent draughtsman and set to work and produced a design. He proposed changing the entire system of modern tactics by the aid of an iron hook to be attached to the seat of each soldier's trousers, this hook to be used by the three arms of the service—cavalry, infantry and artillery. He illustrated it by a series of well-executed designs, and quoted high medical authority to prove its advantages from a sanitary point of view. He argued that the heavy knapsack induced a stooping position and a contraction of the chest but, hung on a hook by a strap over the shoulders, it would brace the body and back and expand the chest. The cavalrymen were to be rendered more secure in their seats when hooked to a ring in the saddle. All commissioned officers were to carry a light twenty-foot pole, with a ring attached to the end, to be used during an engagement in drawing stragglers back into the ranks. He made a drawing of a tremendous battle during which the Generals and Colonels were thus occupied, and in many other ways expatiated upon the value of the hook. When Jefferson Davis, the Secretary of War, saw Derby's designs and read his recommendations, he felt that his dignity was wounded and the service insulted, and he immediately issued an order that Derby be court-martialed. William L. Marcy, then Secretary of State, was told of the transaction and of the cloud hanging over Derby. He looked over the drawings and saw a regiment, their backs towards him and drawn up in line, with knapsacks, blankets and everything appertaining to camp life attached to each soldier by a hook. Marcy, who saw the humorous side at once, said to Davis: "It's no use to court-martial this man. The matter will be made public and the laugh will be upon us. Besides, a man who has the inventive genius that he has displayed, as well as the faculty of design, ill-directed though they be, is too valuable to the service to be trifled with." Derby therefore was not brought to grief, and in time Davis's anger was sufficiently mollified for him to enjoy the joke. I am enabled to state, through the courtesy of the present Assistant Secretary of War, that the drawings referred to are not now to be found in the files of the War Department; and a picture, which at the time was the source of untold amusement and of wide-spread notoriety, seems to be lost to the world.